


Practical Joking in the Face of Adversity

by Fishielicious



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Mirkwood, Practical Jokes, Prison, Thranduil's dungeons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishielicious/pseuds/Fishielicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli pass the time in Thranduil's dungeons by giving Bilbo a nervous breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practical Joking in the Face of Adversity

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT: This fic has Fili and Kili not really knowing Khuzdul very well. This is maybe not canonically very likely, given how carefully Khuzdul is passed down in Dwarvish culture, HOWEVER I do have some reasoning behind it. First of all, since Khuzdul isn't learned from infancy but supposed to be studied academically later, it seems to me that there might be a wide margin of error for how well Dwarf kids learn it. Given that schoolkids aren't exactly well known for their universal love of studying and hard work. Also, Fili and Kili were born basically as refugees. So who knows how much time they had for traditional Dwarvish education? Not that I think Thorin wouldn't be salty as hell that they're not up on their Khuzdul. I imagine after the events of this fic he would be purple in the face every time he thought about it. Prob gonna make Balin give them lessons or something. Now there's another fun story.
> 
> ANYWAY, just my justification for this story tbh. I also could be totally flying in the face of some canonical evidence which, feel free to point that out to me, if you know it.

Kíli fought the guard all the way through the damp and echoing underbelly of the Elvenking's palace. His muscles were sore and still twitching from the spiders' venom. The guard had one hand twisting Kíli's arm behind him and the knotted in his hair. Each thrash hurt and the elf didn't seem to notice, but he'd fight until he couldn't anymore, he'd keep twisting around, looking desperately down the empty corridor behind him.

When elf locked the cell door, Kíli seized the bars and yelled expletives and insults after him, slipping back and forth between Khuzdul and the common tongue.

When the corridors quieted and the guard was gone, he stopped cursing and started calling Fíli's name.

He didn't answer, of course, and no one else did, either.

Kíli's voice started to hurt, and everything else did, too. He sat down on the thin mattress on the floor. The next thing he knew, he was blinking his eyes open to a guard banging on the door, thrusting hunks of bread and cheese and a dinged cup of water at him through the bars.

He cursed at the guard with renewed vigor and would not take the food out of his hands. The elf put the things on the ground and left without comment.

Kíli clung to the bars and, pressing his face against them, watched the guard's back retreat down the hall, languidly, as though he were bored. Finally, the guard turned the corner and Kíli couldn't hear his footsteps anymore. For a second after that, he stayed glued to the door, watching his breath gather in front of him in the cool damp air.

Then his eyes flicked to the hunk of bread lying by his foot. He toed it, bent down and sniffed it, and ripped off a stale chunk with his teeth.

He supposed, after all, there was nothing to be gained by not eating. It wasn't as though extraordinary feats of Dwarvish stubbornness would convince the Elvenking to set them free. And he would need his strength if he wanted to get out of here. They had to get out of here, and soon. Thorin was out there alone somewhere, and he needed them.

He ate the bread and cheese and swallowed all the water in two gulps.

Picking bits of bread out of his molars and staring at the sweaty floor and slick walls, he looked for weakness. Cracks in the walls, rusty bars, dropped keys, things of that nature.

Instead, all he could think about was Fíli: what Fíli would think, what Fíli would say, what Fíli was doing. Kíli could see him now, banging his head against the bars. Maybe not literally, but then again.

Kíli put his head in his hands. He almost laughed at the idea. It would be funny if he didn't, at the same time, have the sick thought at the back of his head of Fíli hurt, of Fíli suffering.

He, Kíli, probably shouldn't have started it, all that fuss, but he hadn't had a chance to think. And when he saw them take Fíli. He'd been scared and he lashed out, and he'd heard Fíli shout. Now, if Fíli got hurt because he was scared, because he couldn't handle his emotions.

He leaned against the wall of the cell, taking a long, shuddering breath, and stared at the rough-hewn rock. He wondered if Fíli were somewhere halfway down an identical hallway, staring at an identical blank wall.

*

In fact, Fíli had been staring at the wall, though by the time Kíli had started at it, he was up again, and pacing.

He wasn't doing a lot more thinking than Kíli was. The pacing just made him feel like he was accomplishing something. His aching legs and tired eyes made him feel constructive, like he was contributing something to society. He kept replaying the moment in his head: that elf grabbing his brother, twisting his arms, lifting him off the ground.

When they brought him food, he nearly succeeded in grabbing the guard through the bars, but the elf pulled back in time, and the cup of water he'd been carrying spilled all over the cell's floor and the hunk of bread and cheese.

Fíli screamed at his back all the way down the corridor, demanding to know what they'd done with Kíli. When he received no reply, he turned around and screamed at the cell, his sharpened voice echoing duller back at him.

*

Kíli was asleep, and at first the knocking seemed like something from his dreams. For a long time, he had dreamed only of traveling, of bumping along on a pony or brambles thwacking against his legs, of the constant weight on his back. But now, after weeks in one cell, he dreamed about being suspended in empty space, or knocking through wall after stone wall, never finding what he was missing. When he heard the knock in his dream, it came in the form of an invisible someone breathing down his neck and tapping long sharp nails on his head.

He woke and sat straight up, and the knocking kept up behind him, sending shivers down his back. He turned, quick, and laughed out loud.

"Mr. Boggins."

The Hobbit was crouched in front of the cell door, knocking on the bars with his knuckles and hissing, low enough that Kíli hadn't even heard in his sleep.

"Yes, hi," Bilbo whispered. He had stopped correcting Kíli when he called him Boggins ages ago.

"It's about time you got here."

Bilbo looked offended.

That made Kíli smile. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

Bilbo sighed. "That's just what Dwalin said. Listen, could you keep your voice down?"

"Why?" Kíli raised his voice. "No one'll be around till supper. They just brought lunch. You talked to Dwalin?"

"How do you know? You were asleep. And yes. I'm trying to track all of you down, and--"

"Who've you found? Have you found Fíli?"

"No, listen, I wanted to ask you if you knew, possibly, where any of the others are. So far, I've only found Dwalin, Bombur, and well, you, of course."

"No, I don't know. How would I know? Fíli, they took him off some corridor to the right. That was back down that way." Kíli jabbed his finger down the corridor to his right. "That was off the corridor down that way. I think if you go left down that way, and then left again at some point."

Bilbo stared down after Kíli's finger and blinked several times in succession. "Yes, well, you've been very helpful, thanks." And he started to move away.

Kíli grabbed his sleeve through the bars. "Wait. Wait. Sorry I don't know where anyone is. But do me a favor, okay?"

"What, other than the favor I'm doing you by--" Bilbo leaned in and dropped his voice back to a hiss "--making a plan to get you out of here?"

"Yes, other than that. When you find Fíli, could you give him this, please?" Kíli turned and pulled a wrinkled and brownish piece of folded paper from under his mattress.

Bilbo wrinkled his nose and took the paper between the tips of his fingers. "What is it?"

"None of your business. I mean, it's private." He smiled.

"Is it a letter?" Bilbo started to unfold it and Kíli snatched it out of his hands.

"What part of 'it's private' don't you understand?" he said bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said, and he actually looked it.

"It's just." Kíli looked down at the letter in his hands and rubbed his fingers along the crease. "This is the longest I've ever been without seeing him."

"I'll give it to him," Bilbo said. "And I won't read it, I promise."

Kíli gave him a critical eye before handing the letter back over. "You wouldn't understand it, anyway," he said. "It's in Khuzdul. So the elves couldn't read it if they got their hands on it."

"Then why--never mind. I didn't know you even spoke Khuzdul."

"Of course I do! Maybe not as well as Thorin or Balin or, well, Bifur only speaks Khuzdul and half the time I don't even understand what he's saying, but I think that's more his fault than mine, you know."

"Yes, I think I've got it. Where is this paper from, anyway, it's… oily."

"I found it in my boot," Kíli said.

*

Fíli had been kicking aimlessly at the same spot on the wall until his toe was numb and foot aching. He tried not to let it show, though he could feel his chest tightening. His first question was, "Well?" and when Bilbo asked him, didn't he want to know how he'd escaped the elves, infiltrated their halls, and found where they were holding the company, his reply was, "Well, you're the burglar, aren't you?" That seemed to put the Hobbit into something of a foul mood, and he shoved an oily piece of paper through the bars and muttered something that sounded insulting to Fíli.

But Bilbo promised he'd be back, after he found the others and did some other things he sounded rather more unclear on.

Fíli wasn't listening. He had retreated to the back of his cell and was staring, lips twitching, at the paper in his hand.

The last time Kíli had written him a letter they had been little, and Fíli had been punished for… something which, if he remembered correctly, involved throwing knives and a lot of screaming. Fíli was stuck in their room all the time except for meals and lessons, and Kíli was not allowed to play with him. Kíli barely knew how to write at the time, and his letter had consisted mostly of indecipherable cryptograms and illustrations and random runes spilled like grains of rice across the parchment. At the bottom, he'd written, very carefully, "I miss you and I love you," and Fíli had been so mortified by it, he had disavowed all knowledge of the letter when Kíli asked about it later. But he'd saved it, still, and sometimes brought it up to tease Kíli later in life when they were old enough that it only embarrassed Kíli and not him.

Kíli's handwriting had not improved much since, though to his credit, this letter did not contain nearly so many baffling illustrations.

It read, in somewhat broken Khuzdul:

"Fíli--

"I hope you're eating your cheese because I think we won't eat more until you-know-where."

Fíli rolled his eyes. He supposed Kíli meant Erebor, and that was his attempt at being secretive.

"I haven't written Khuzdul for a long time, but the elves won't read it. I found this paper in my boot. I don't know where it came from. I thought you would think that was funny.

"You remember when I wrote you a letter when we were little." Here Kíli had crossed out several misspelled words and scribbled over one phrase so hard Fíli couldn't make out what it had once said. "I know you'll make fun of me again, but I feel strange to be alone for so long. The only ones to talk to are elves. But don't worry, I only yell at them. I know you always say I talk too much. But I wish I could talk to you.

"I'm all right. I hope you're all right.

"--Kíli."

Fíli leaned back against the cell wall. Kíli was stupid; he shouldn't be passing things like that around. It wouldn't be a problem, if it only went through the Hobbit, but he risked a lot just to give Fíli some stupid letter that didn't even say anything important in it.

Still, the moment he'd seen Kíli's handwriting, the tightness in his chest loosened and he felt tired enough to sleep. He didn't have anything to write with, but he thought he ought to write back.

He was about to fold the letter up again when he noticed a postscript written on the back that had been hidden in the inner folds.

"P.S. If you're banging your head against the bars, please stop, because it's not going to do any good."

*

The next time Bilbo came to Fíli's cell, it was with news that Thorin was there in the Elvenking's dungeons, too. Fíli was glad to hear that, if it meant he was alive and well as any of them. And it sounded like the Hobbit wasn't wasting all of his time.

He figured the best thing he could do was stay out of it until someone asked for his help. He could find other ways to entertain himself.

"Have you told Kíli yet?" he asked, looking down at his nail beds like it didn't really matter much.

"No, but I don't have any time to carry all these messages back and forth--"

"Whoa, calm down, are you saying you're in the middle of a very time sensitive operation, perhaps something like a prison break?"

"No! You Dwarves, you--"

"Well, in that case, you probably have time to relay a very brief message to my very sensitive, very concerned little baby brother, who you were on your way to talk to, anyway." Fíli was at the bars, now, stooping to put his face right in front of Bilbo's. "Please," he said, as an afterthought.

"Well." Bilbo looked down at his feet. "Well, I suppose if you make it quick."

"Good man, Mr. Baggins." Fíli grinned. "Now, there's just one thing." He paused to push his hair out of his face. His braids were all frayed and coming undone and they didn't keep his hair back much anymore. "It's just that I don't have anything to write with, so I'm going to have to tell you what to say, okay?"

Bilbo rolled his eyes, but Fíli continued before he could protest again. "Don't worry. It's real simple, real short. Just. It's in Khuzdul."

"Oh, come on, Fíli, I--"

"It's so easy, I swear. Just do like I do." Fíli opened his mouth and formed the sounds slowly and clearly so Bilbo could follow along.

"I don't think Hobbit tongues are built to twist like that," Bilbo said. "Can't you just tell me what you want to say to him? I won't laugh or--"

"You should laugh! I'm funny." Bilbo groaned. "But it's gotta be in Khuzdul." He put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder through the bars. "Let's try it again. Repeat after me."

*

Kíli had to ask Bilbo to repeat himself several times, and by the end, Bilbo gave up and said, "I don't know if you're having a laugh or what, but I'm not saying it again."

"Yeah, sure," Kíli said and backed away from the cell door chewing on his cuticles.

"That's not all, though," Bilbo said. "I wanted to give you Fíli's message first, before I forgot. But I also need to tell you. Thorin's here."

Kíli was at the bars again in a second. "What, here with you?" He jutted his neck out and peered down the corridor as through Thorin might be lurking just out of sight at Bilbo's side.

"No, no. I mean, here in the prison."

"I know, I'm asking you where."

"Deeper than the rest of you lot."

Kíli blinked several times in a row. "You mean he's here in the prison. With us."

"Isn't that what I just said, or--"

"I didn't think you--never mind." Kíli went right back to gnawing on his fingernails.

"So. I'll be back again," Bilbo said. He paused awkwardly at the door and his hand stuttered, as though he was considering patting Kíli on the arm.

When Bilbo was gone, Kíli's legs folded under him and he sank to the floor, his fingertips still in his mouth.

Thorin was here, and Kíli didn't at all understand whatever message it was Fíli was trying to pass him. Things were getting very strange. He especially did not like not understanding Fíli. It was probably Bilbo's fault. He probably wasn't saying it right. Only, those noises didn't sound remotely like any Khuzdul words Kíli knew, which, admittedly, he might not be a complete expert, but if Fíli knew any more than he did, it wasn't much. Right? He thought he'd always understand Fíli.

*

The next time Kíli saw Bilbo, he was unlocking his cell door and shushing the small crowd of loudly whispering Dwarves behind him with all his might.

The door had barely swung open before Fíli's body hit him. Kíli's feet left the ground and he closed his arms around his brother's neck, laughing in spite of himself.

He heard Bilbo whimper and mumble something about "blasted Dwarvish racket" which he supposed was right. Hard as it was to stop himself, it would be harder still to draw guards and ruin the break.

He clamped his own jaw shut and pressed his hand over Fíli's mouth. Fíli shook his head so what was left of his braids slapped at Kíli's face and set him back down on the ground.

By this time the others, with more sense and considerably more eye-rolling, had moved on down the corridor.

They collected Thorin last, down by the cellars, and he stepped out of his cell like he was stepping into his throne room. That made Kíli smile and Fíli's hand squeezed his shoulder. Thorin didn't make eye contact with either of them or say anything to them, or even anything they could make out, properly. But they were in high spirits, reuniting with each other, reuniting, in a manner of speaking, with their uncle, and all in the middle of a daring escape from prison.

In the cellars while Bilbo scrambled around packing all the company each into separate barrels to roll into the river, Fíli and Kíli rolled their barrels next to each other and stood in them, elbows hanging over the barrels' edges, talking quietly lest Bilbo or Balin or heaven forbid, Thorin get on them for being too loud and attracting attention.

Fíli asked, "Did you get my message? That I sent with our burglar?"

"Yeah," Kíli said. He didn't look at Fíli and instead scratched a spot of crusty mud on his arm.

"Well. What do you think? Do you have anything to say to me?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Why would you? Maybe Mr. Boggins didn't say it right. What did he say?" Fíli leaned out of his barrel and slapped Kíli on the arm. Kíli pulled away.

They looked across the room, to where Bofur was trying to help press Bombur's stomach in while Bilbo pushed on his head to fit him in the barrel. Bombur's face was vividly purple, they could see even in the dim light.

"What'd Bilbo say to you? He probably said it wrong. How'd he say it?" Fíli grabbed the rim of Kíli's barrel and tried to drag them closer together.

Kíli swatted his fingers away and his barrel rocked. "I don't know. Who remembers that kind of thing."

"So if you don't remember my message, how do you know you don't have anything to say to me?" Fíli yanked on the end of Kíli's arm and laughed when Kíli nearly fell out of his barrel trying to keep it upright.

"Come on, stop it. We're not even out of the prison yet and you're acting like--"

"Like what?" Fíli laughed again as Bilbo, hair wet from river spray or sweat, finally came around to them. "Mr. Baggins," Fíli said politely and tucked his arms inside the barrel, "sorry to trouble you, but do you recall the message I asked you to pass on to my esteemed brother, Kíli, some number of days ago?"

Bilbo looked like he wanted to hit him, but Fíli was already folding himself up nicely in the barrel, a lot easier than the older, stiffer, and fatter Dwarves had done. Bilbo muttered the phrase, with a stutter and a little garbled, but so Fíli heard it well enough, and it sounded enough like what he'd said, so he repeated it to Kíli, yelling since his head was already tucked down to his chest. "Think about it!" was the last thing he said before Bilbo slammed the lid down over him.

Kíli didn't think about it at all before or after Bilbo put the lid on him, and when he was drying off on the shore of the Long Lake, spitting the water that had been trapped in his mouth for days out in a fountain over his head and Fíli was in his ear complaining about the smell of apples, he rather hoped Fíli had stopped thinking about it, too.

But Fíli, one hand full of wet sock, put the other around Kíli's shoulders and their soggy coats squelched together. "Do you get it, yet?"

"Get what?" Kíli stuck his finger in his ear to try to dislodge the rushing noise inside.

"You know. What I told you."

"I don't care. I mean, I forgot what it was again."

"You know, you could just admit you don't understand," Fíli said, hugging his shoulders tighter. Kíli wiped his wet hair out of his face.

"Well?" Fíli nudged him in the ribs.

Kíli looked at him and spat out a wad of mucous in between them.

Thorin was standing yards away, on the shoreline, squinting out at the horizon with bits of hay stuck in his hair and beard and furs. Kíli imitated Thorin's squint. "You made it up, didn't you?"

"Of course I made it up, it's my message. I'm the one who said it."

"You know what I mean. That's not any Khuzdul." Kíli stood up and walked back from the shoreline where the waves were dying at Fíli's feet.

Fíli leaned back on his palms and kept his eyes out over the lake. "I was just joking with you," he called over his shoulder. "Thought I'd give you something to think about in there."

When Kíli didn't respond, Fíli looked behind him, but he was already too far gone, somewhere between where Bifur stood wringing out his beard and where Óin was blowing wet chunks of hay out of his ear trumpet.

The rest of the afternoon Kíli spent sitting with Balin who seemed half annoyed to have to entertain him and half grateful to have someone's undivided attention.

Fíli thought he was being a big baby, and he certainly wasn't going to apologize. So he spent his time obsessively picking every last bit of hay out of his hair and clothing while halfway listening to Bofur tell stories to all the Dwarves who were lying on the shore recuperating. Bofur was lying down, too, telling his tales from under his hat, which he was using to keep the sun out of his eyes.

Finally, when Thorin, looking a bit green in the face himself, called Fíli and Kíli and Bilbo to him and told them they were going into Lake-town, Fíli thought Kíli might drop it and start acting like an adult.

Kíli went on one side of Thorin and Fíli went on the other, and Thorin, predictably, did not speak, and neither did Fíli and Kíli, which must have been a pleasant surprise for Thorin.

By the time they were in the Master's hall, in places of honor, Fíli was dangerously close to apologizing to Kíli, just so they could start talking again. Fíli, personally, had a lot to say about this surreal situation.

But still, they were on opposite sides of Thorin, and while all around them people were singing and shouting back and forth, ale was sloshing and food was mysteriously appearing in mass quantities on the tables, Fíli kept sneaking glances at Kíli, and he was staring straight ahead, not speaking much or even blinking often.

Fíli wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't want Kíli to notice him doing it. He must have been really upset. The silent treatment was hard for him to pull off.

He was about to give up and try to get Kíli's attention when Thorin leaned over to Kíli and said, Fíli thought, "Well, go ahead."

Kíli nodded and stood up, mug in hand. He cleared his throat and everyone at the high table and some people at neighboring tables turned to look at him. He shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat again. His back was straight and his hair was much neater than Fíli had seen it in months. His face even looked clean. He opened his mouth and out came a precise and quick stream of Khuzdul, or at least, Khuzdul-sounding noises. Fíli didn't real know, because he only understood about a quarter of it. The basic "good healths" and "by axe and hammer", "the glory of Durin". But it must have been good, because Thorin was nodding and looking more somber than even usual.

When Kíli finished, most of the company slammed their mugs together and cheered, though a few looked unsure. Fíli joined in the toast, but apprehensively. Kíli was still standing up, and now his eyes were moving towards Fíli, a wicked smile curling the corners of his mouth. "But those are just my ungraceful words. I'm sure my brother, Fíli, Thorin's true heir, could say it much better."

Fíli froze, but Thorin was looking at him expectantly. Kíli could barely keep himself from laughing, which compounded the perplexed looks they were drawing.

Fíli didn't stand up. He could feel his color rising and tried to keep his voice on the level as he looked at Thorin and then up to Kíli, who was nearly shaking with mirth, and said, "I think you said it just perfectly, brother."

Kíli's laughter spilled out and he doubled over and beat the table with his fist. Dwalin started next, with his roaring laugh, and next to him Balin, with his arms crossed over his round belly, was squinting and chuckling. When Ori frowned, Nori leaned over and whispered something through his own laughter until Ori smiled, too. Even Thorin was in on the joke, though he seemed not to quite understand why it was so funny. He attempted a smile but it seemed to make him feel ill and he quickly took up his ale.

Fíli himself started smiling when he decided this had to mean Kíli wasn't seriously angry with him. And then, he had to acknowledge, it was a clever move. Then he shaded his face with his hand to hide the pink in his cheeks.

*

When the feast thinned out, everyone was drunk and tired, and when the Master showed them all to their rooms, Kíli followed Fíli into his.

"I had Balin teach me the speech," he said, sitting down on the bed before Fíli even had his coat off. "As soon as I figured out you faked your message."

Fíli sat down next to him and started working his boots off. "What did it mean?"

"It was mostly obscure legal phrases strung together. To be sure you wouldn't understand. I didn't expect to get an opportunity like that feast so soon, though."

"Yeah."

"You're going to have to think of something pretty good."

"To match that?"

"Yeah, yours could've been better. Really. Just making me worry for a few days."

"Aw, you were worried."

"Shut up. I fixed you, though."

"If that's what you think is a good joke, you have a lot to learn."

"Oh yeah, and you're going to teach me?"

Fíli smirked and started unwinding his tangled braids. "It's not something you can teach. You're either born with it, or you're not."

"And you were born with it, huh?"

"All I can say is you'd better keep your eyes open."

Kíli yawned and lay back on the pillows. "Don't worry, I don't plan on letting you out of my sight again until we get to Erebor."

"I hope that doesn't include watching me while I sleep." Fíli folded down the sheets and climbed in. "I mean. Move." And with that, he blew out the lamp and pulled the covers up to his ears.

Kíli didn't move right away, and Fíli groaned and rolled over to put his back towards him. After a while, he felt Kíli's hand in his hair. He would never say, and he might tease Kíli for it, later, but with his brother's warmth and weight on the bed next to him, and the pressure of his arm against his back and his fingers knotted just above his ear, he fell asleep fast and for the first time in weeks he didn't dream of missing something.

**Author's Note:**

> After a while of editing, this story still feels a little unbalanced, but I'm ready to post it anyway. I like it too much not to, and I think it's time to move on. Mostly because my draft will get deleted on this site if I don't post it today or tomorrow lol.
> 
> I am like princess of weirdly-close-to-Durincest-but-actually-gen fic. Although I guess if I qualify for that title, I have a hell of a lot of sister princesses on AO3.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, sister princesses (and others? tbh idk who else would read this though)!


End file.
